Wednesday, March 26, 2008

It is no secret that Scientology is an extensively rooted practice in L.A. Increasingly, and under the radar, Scientology continues to build its' presence and influence in one of the most powerful cities in the U.S. Their freak flag keeps waving (aka Tom Cruise) in an effort to boost good PR, but as John Cook at Radar points out "after an embarrassing string of high-profile defections and leaked videos, Scientology is now under attack from a facelss cabal of online activists." Will Scientology be declared a cult, as Germany did this past year, or will it rise as a legitimate religion, thanks to their long list of celeb believers? When the line is drawn, where do you stand?

Radar has done its homework. L.A. is nothing like Clearwater, but there are resemblances. Clearwater is the Scientologists' established 'spiritual mecca', denoted as such thanks to a landing (yes, landing) by L. Ron Hubbard back in 1975. The pulp fiction writer and subsequent cult leader led his followers on an eight-year sea voyage throughout Europe and the Mediterranean, finally settling on the coast of Florida and establishing a small town designated to the fine art of achieving a scientologist's wet dream, the ultimate spiritual state and financially costly highest level. On the day that John Cook of Radar visits, something is clearly wrong, as the streets are empty and soon enough, they've got scientologist photogs following them every step of the way. John is informed that 110 cameras survey the downtown area in addition to the new 'friends' now tagging along. Clearwater is prepared for its enemies.

Back in L.A., scientology is rapidly taking root, if not already cultivating its chronic infestation. Unbeknownst to many, scientologists are buying up real estate around town, networking contacts and turning many Hollywood power players into devoted followers. An example of what this means is provided by Alexander, a former vice president of Universal Studios, who defected, and says that in his former life, 'he was so consumed with Scientology that he carried around a Church-issued beeper that alerted him whenever his minders decided he required counseling.' Around Hollywood, you can spot a Scientologist fairly easily, as they generally wear an issued uniform of khaki pants and a plain navy blue tee, shuffling to the next building with downcast eyes. Driving in front of the Hollywood Scientology buildings and dorms, nary a person can be seen. The dorms almost look deserted, but the contrary is true, they are meant to be inconspicuous. They are, and frighteningly so, as covert operations like, "Operation Freakout" are manifesting in the media. Lives are at stake. Hubbard famously "promulgated what he called the "fair game" policy, whereby anyone judged to be an antagoinist "may be deprived of property, or injured and tricked, sued or lied to, or destroyed." A statement later withdrawn because it was "bad PR."

This crazy city of L.A. is filled to the brim of what appears to be a heady concoction of subversive activity a la Scientology. Aside from this, I have a hard time believing that extensive paranoia, described earlier and aptly reported in Cult Friction, is the result of true spiritual freedom and a sound mind. Even John Cook, our unsuspecting reporter, who came to L.A. to watch Scientologist protestors unload their opinion, gets a snapshot of the fear they effect, just read his article. The stories of harassment continue to float to the surface, but I hear nothing from the streets of L.A.; the idea that Scientology is so powerful around town that nary a person will talk for fear of disappering one day is effectively disturbing. I worry about a group who puts so much energy into 'saving' the locals, yet does not openly reveal itself; I'm sentient but apprehensive; should I be paranoid of them? Looks like Anonymous already went there.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

L.A. hardly has a sparkling reputation for clean water. Just recently, we all learned that if you are one of the few that dare to drink the tap water in the city (or pretty much across the U.S., but bets are you'll find more barbituates in L.A. water), you're probably ingesting a pills' worth of steroids, antibiotics, anti-convulsants, mood stabilizers and sex hormones. So, in order to combat this influx of unwanted ingestion, UNICEF has made it's goal to bring clean water to the world, and L.A. is now part of that plan. It might be a tad sad to say, but their catchy commercial tune made me curious, so I ended up on the website. If the world needs saving, I don't think anyone will turn to me.

About the project: It's our single most bountiful resource. Yet, water is a daily privilege millions take for granted. The little known truth is that lack of clean and accessible drinking water is the second largest worldwide killer of children under five.

To address this situation, a nationwide effort is launching during World Water Week called the Tap Project, a campaign that celebrates the clean and accessible tap water available as an every day privilege to millions, while helping UNICEF provide safe drinking water to children around the world.

The Tap Project.

Beginning Sunday, March 16 through Saturday, March 22, restaurants will invite their customers to donate a minimum of $1 for the tap water they would normally get for free. For every dollar raised, a child will have clean drinking water for 40 days.

As the world's leading children's organization, UNICEF understands the critical role water plays in a child's survival.

Currently, UNICEF provides access to safe water and sanitation facilities while promoting safe hygiene practices in more than 90 countries. By 2015, UNICEF's goal is to reduce the number of people without safe water and basic sanitation by 50 percent.

L.A. is a congregation of artists and collaborators; when a holiday comes along involving chocolate and coloring, well, let the celebration begin. Foodies turned restaurant entreprenuers turn their L.A. eateries into celebrity gatherings with the most delicate and excessive temptations for the palate.

Jin Patisserie’s Chocolate EggsAt $38 to $48 a pop, Venice bakery Jin Patisserie’s chocolate Easter eggs sound like quite a splurge. With each handmade egg filled with truffles, they are. Decorated with chocolate flowers, geometric shapes and spray-on coloring these beauties come in 27 flavors of exotic fruits, liqueur and tea. The small eggs ($38) are six inches tall, while large eggs ($48) are eight inches tall.

Sprinkles’ HOP Easter BoxEveryone’s favorite cupcakery has a special “HOP” box filled with dark chocolate, brown sugar praline, carrot and vanilla cupcakes adorned with pink and green bunnies. Or you can purchase the brown sugar praline cupcake just for yourself. You can’t go wrong with its caramel cake with brown sugar frosting topped with crunchy nut praline ($3.25).

SusieCakes’ Easter Basket CupcakesA cupcake and Easter basket all in one! Genius! The cute bakery offers up a chocolate cupcake with coconut buttercream topped with green coconut “grass” and mini jellybeans ($3). But if you want something other than cupcakes, they also have Rice Krispie treats, cute home-made bunny and chick marshmallows and Easter-themed frosted sugar cookies.

Yummy Cupcakes’ Easter FlavorsYummy gets a gold star for offering quite a selection of cupcake flavors this holiday and in such an ornate fashion. The Easter bunny cupcake ($3.50) actually has chocolate rabbit ears sticking out of it. The Easter basket cupcake ($3.50) has a white chocolate handle and spring-colored drop flowers. Other flavors include Carrot Cream Cheese and Egg Hunt ($3 each). The latter is side rolled in coconut flakes and topped with jelly beans.

There's a surprising few of us getting coffee, hanging out, and catching up on the fine cuisine offered around L.A. - and then blogging about it. My curiosity about the people in the Los Angeles blogosphere led to me to these L.A. expatriates and colleagues. Enjoy!

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

It is undoubtedly obvious that L.A. has its own vibe – reinforced by the general makeup of the population, L.A. no doubt is more subversive than most; with styles that span from Emo to Blond Ambition, more often than not counterculture and not involving catwalks and skinny models (only sometimes). I tend to think L.A. is being snubbed by the big players in NY(and L.A. doesn't make it any better with Lauren Conrad as their biggest headline), as evidenced in the eyes of Andre Leon Talley, as he heaves a big sigh.

L.A. fashion is spawed in clubs, individualism, the beach and a laid-back, weather-changing lifestyle (read: layers). All in all, we’ve got style. So I ask, “How can The Sartorialist ignore us so completely over here on the West Coast?” I assume that he works, and that work takes place on the the East Coast (and abroad, note the Delhi flavor) without any thought, glance or sympathy thrown in our direction. Still, I am feeling a mite ignored, and a bit miffed that his beautiful photography doesn’t hold images of the pros over here out on the street everyday. Although, I can forgive him and his ways. His Blog is not one to forget as evidenced by the press he receives on Vogue.com.

Oh pick up lines. Let me count the ways. When you go out with the girls (and I mean friends, not the nicknamed duo that reside on a chest), it is inevitably seen as an open invitation to men; especially after downing liquid courage. Unfortunately for the unwitting male counterpart, nothing makes me go frigid faster than a drunk hit. Inevitable it is, so what better way to brave the waters than at a local Russian bar.

One Sunday night, I hop into my car and hit up Lubitsch, a tucked away bar in my West Hollywood neighborhood. The ivy-covered entrance leads to a stone walled patio and is guarded by the usual bouncer, but with the typical LA twist - as our bouncer, whose name we learn is Daniel - is wearing black skinny jeans and Italian boots. More nerdy emo than buff gym rat, and a lot more fun than either. Two rooms, illuminated only by a handful of orbs and lamps around the bar make you feel like you walked into Eastern Promises, and you're hoping there's not a body in the back. This place is dark, and I'm digging it. If you want to hide from your friends, here's good place to do it.

Strawberry flavored drinks rimmed with champagne are on the special menu tonight and my girlfriends, who have beat me to the punch tell me, they are delicious! If history serves me right, I'm pretty sure drinks with fruity flavors were not served at the Kremlin in the 1800's, but whatever; with its designated Russian moniker, how can I resist. However, girls night out it is not meant to be, and as I talk with my friends, we are accosted by a NY douchebag, all primped and preened with stoli vodka. It doesn't take long before I ask him to leave, (I am after all, catching up with good friends) and it gets hostile. After a near aggressive and extensive awkward argument, he finally leaves (he later ends up in a fight on the patio, and gets kicked out of the bar. Whoo-hoo! Maybe Daniel is tougher than he looks). My girls and I end up on the patio, and we get to know Daniel, our swathy bouncer, a little better. He is aware that we were the ones who rejected the NY patron, and tells us we 'should have taken one for the team.' Yeah, right. The night ends in laughs, and we all go home pink cheeked and happy.

Lubitsch, it's not a place to get drunk and party, but it's great to chill out and have some fun. Still, not everyone has a good time here, LA Filtered would disagree with my blessing.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

L.A. mornings are breathtaking. Usually cool, and beautifully done by nature in pink, yellow and blue. This glory is coupled with hazy fog (I mean, MARINE LAYER (is it just because in NY you call it fog???)). You're waking up in a dreamy landscape full of fresh morning dew (and sometimes the neighborhood cat at your door). Nothing beats this unless you're watching the early morning rise from a seat at a cafe off the Sunset Strip.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Writers are to me, some special creation, with knowledge of how to slice life and put it into words. In advocating my love, I quote Adrian Leeds: Francophile, real estate investor and New Yorker in Paris, "writers are really fascinating people. They are both intellectual and creative at the same time. Their words paint images on blank paper not very differently than drawing lines or painting strokes on a canvas to make an impression. They are curious by nature. One can't express even a simple emotion without reflecting on it, questioning it and research is key. For that reason, they travel, they explore and they wake up each day needing their 'fix' to express themselves in a solitary way, with no one but themselves to criticize."

Such is the life of a writer. The ones that ended up in LA can be counted as some of the best. They write screenplays and sitcoms, selling entertainment to the rest of the world. I searched for LA writers and found a host of communities and opportunities to flex your writing muscle. Most interesting though, was the history that writers have with Los Angeles and how each individual's perception managed to shape the outsider's view - no one finds LA to be the same place. In Adam Kirsch's article L.A. Without A Map, he explains that leafing through an anthology of Los Angeles titled Writing Los Angeles (see below), he felt that, "if you are a native of Los Angeles, paging through all the travel notes and memoirs and short stories is a strange sensation. Where you expect to find the city itself, there is only a carnival of metaphors," and there again is the point that LA is not the same city to anyone. Where there's failure, for another it's success - such is the life of an L.A. foreigner turned native.

Links to the hub of writers in the city: This list is barely a hub (sorry, I will update asap, but to get you started)

The "BIG 4," representing some of the top talent in the industry, get to know them well: William Morris among them. I actually had a hard time finding information on the big agencies. There's an LA story about a job list released by these agencies. Story is, the assistants who see the list usually score the jobs that lead somewhere, leaving everyone else to struggle with the menial, and effectively stay on the outside.

That Los Angeles lothario of legal soft porn advertisements has charmed yet another. Per Copyranter, read this article by the latest AA model, and "think back fondly to a time in your life when you were such a naive little tabula rasa."

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Dawn licks the serrated edges of the city, threatening to douse the night in lurid illumination. The darkness quivers, and I stir from sleep.

It is the City Of Angels, but only devils brood here. They draw new blood everyday. This is what dark hearted cities like Los Angeles offer. I was an angel once, but the devils breathe smoky strife. Their obnoxious breath infects the plumbing and pollutes the air. I am here; never immune. The infection spreads from one person to the next. As each betrays the other, dystopian angst frisks our bodies - it sets in, a virile mix. Love is lost. Another empty vessel emerges into day from the depths of unrequited love.

We are here; Stripped bare, beaten up, hearts set firmly in ice. We drive in heated traffic, scratching at the walls that surround us, at our isolated existence. Anger sets in. It burrows deep into our flesh impregnating our bodies with unhappiness. LA promised. That’s what it does best, it promises; fulfillment. We were moths to the flame, we never had a chance. I am a remnant, left in the fire to burn to ash. Not knowing what to make of the evil devices against us, we hide in protective crevices, which avail nothing. We are bloodied by the dawn.

Self-interest rules in Hollywood in a predominant and present way, namely, in your relationships. The person you meet at work, in cafes, on the street (given the odds) thinks, "how can you make my life bigger, better and wealthier?"

You can't take lying out here personally. When I realized for the first time (several times over really) that I was lied to, I was hurt that a person I trusted would do that to me; BUT this is the way people manage their relationships. Conflicting self-interest and need confuse L.A. relationships. Guarding myself from motive is mentally exhausting. This is a thorn in my side.

Surpised by usurption and deception, I have many deep cuts. Try not to be surprised and don't have high expectations. You have to work through the rough to find the diamonds.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Driving in LA is like getting acupunture - all you want to do is scream but you're stuck for the next 30 minutes. Call it character building, as your patience is will be tested. A drive only a mile away can take over an hour, bumper to bumper, with some douchebag stopping to park, take a left turn, or simply try to squeeze himself in ahead of you. People take their time, question which way to turn and generally stop thinking when they get in their car. Then it comes to this - someone throws a piece of dried fruit at me, a piece of fruit?!

Honking in L.A. is sort of a no-go. We're all in the same pot, slowly making the trek home after work, so it's unfair that one of us is rocking the boat and pissing people off even more. But c'mon, don't stop during a green light to decide whether or not you want to make a right turn, and then do it at the last minute so the person behind you misses the green light. Same rule goes for left turns, the moment you have a chance to turn, you better fucking move.

Free wireless internet, average coffee, healthy eats (yogurt, fruit, boba, bran muffin), and local artist work are offered at this corner coffee house - topped off with your token tattooed waitstaff.

I am at Sabor Y Culture off Hollywood Boulevard and doing my duty as a friend and wife (read: I'm not doing this for my benefit). Tonight is Friday night, and though the place is often host to several local artist community gatherings, tonight the gamers rule. I'm not taking Wii. Professors and intellectuals (there are exceptions) surround me at each table. They are playing board games. I don't see any fantasy games here but rather Art Moderna, Cash 101 and Settlers of Catan. Friday night is on and it's buzzing with the over 30 crowd.

Two hours later and twice as many latte's, I am peeking at the other tables and observing the fun. Students have settled in to study. So many people are chattering that it turns to a crowd murmur and evokes a zen atmosphere. No one to hit on you here (what a relief!). These gamers, students and artists are serious and concentrate heavily on what is in front of them.

In the alleyway, I spot a surprise (LA is full of these) and take a picture. Although it's a little creepy, and certainly more so since it's dark and we're in an ALLEY, it's an interesting piece of work.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Many a night have I pried open my eyelids to finish books and articles written by writers whose voice provoke a sense of accomplishment, and my faith in humanity. Meaning, I finally found someone who's intelligent - at least on paper. Witty, dextrous, thought-provoking, hit your knee hilarious or let's face it - cutting-edge bitchy - writing is always welcome to my time. It makes my day. In Derek De Koff, I found credence. In his article This Is My Brain on Chantix, he thinks on the struggle of smoking and medicinal induced suicidal tendencies, with big help from a small pill.

Educate Yourself....Read Something Already............

The bloggers of NY Magazine's The Cut.....Their fashion judgments are brutal but you'll be laughing so hard, you won't care they're so catty.

Jezebel: Celebrity, Sex, Fashion: Without Airbrushing....If you think the gays and girls from The Cut are ruthless, you're about to get a lesson in clever putdowns and cutting remarks. Run mostly by women, I'm surprised I don't hear more about this blog in mainstream media.

Copyranter.......This saavy New York copywriter knows how to turn a phrase and make it count. He guarantees two blog postings per day (guarantee void everywhere).

Something Rotten......Copenhagen is a hot bed of interesting social observation. Aaron is adept at making his observations to the point and thoughtful, and sometimes just down right funny as a Londoner on a quest for love in the city of cycle culture.

Finally, to open up your network, the Fistful of Euros site will show you where to find the blog winners of 2007 here.

My sister is looking for an apartment. Not hard to do in and of itself, but when your fighting for a decent priced apartment in a good area, and are most likely up against the other 2,000 people who just relocated to L.A., it's gonna be dog eat dog. Relentless, agressive behavior counts. So, take a look at the newspapers, craigslist, get the password from a friend for www.westsiderentals.com, and call around. Expect not to hear anything for a few weeks. Landlords are tough to get a hold of, don't even bother to leave a message - they won't call you, they don't have to. They'll be another one of you the next day. I found that the best way to find your new home is to make the drive and circle your coveted neighborhood like a stalker. By far, this is the best technique to get results. Otherwise, bunk with a friend for six months and pretend your an actor. Unless you are, then get used to surfing couches; you'll be too broke to afford anything.

Oh pick up lines. Let me count the ways. When you go out with the girls (and I mean friends, not the nicknamed duo that reside on a chest), it is inevitably seen as an open invitation to men; especially after downing liquid courage. Unfortunately for the unwitting male counterpart, nothing makes me go frigid faster than a drunk hit. Inevitable it is, so what better way to brave the waters than at a local Russian bar.

One Sunday night, I hop into my car and hit up Lubitsch, a tucked away bar in my West Hollywood neighborhood. The ivy-covered entrance leads to a stone walled patio and is guarded by the usual bouncer, but with the typical LA twist - as our bouncer, whose name we learn is Daniel - is wearing black skinny jeans and Italian boots. More nerdy emo than buff gym rat, and a lot more fun than either. Two rooms, illuminated only by a handful of orbs and lamps around the bar make you feel like you walked into Eastern Promises, and you're hoping there's not a body in the back. This place is dark, and I'm digging it. If you want to hide from your friends, here's good place to do it.

Strawberry flavored drinks rimmed with champagne are on the special menu tonight and my girlfriends, who have beat me to the punch tell me, they are delicious! If history serves me right, I'm pretty sure drinks with fruity flavors were not served at the Kremlin in the 1800's, but whatever; with its designated Russian moniker, how can I resist. However, girls night out it is not meant to be, and as I talk with my friends, we are accosted by a NY douchebag, all primped and preened with stoli vodka. It doesn't take long before I ask him to leave, (I am after all, catching up with good friends) and it gets hostile. After a near aggressive and extensive awkward argument, he finally leaves (he later ends up in a fight on the patio, and gets kicked out of the bar. Whoo-hoo! Maybe Daniel is tougher than he looks). My girls and I end up on the patio, and we get to know Daniel, our swathy bouncer, a little better. He is aware that we were the ones who rejected the NY patron, and tells us we 'should have taken one for the team.' Yeah, right. The night ends in laughs, and we all go home pink cheeked and happy.

Lubitsch, it's not a place to get drunk and party, but it's great to chill out and have some fun. Still, not everyone has a good time here, LA Filtered would disagree with my blessing.

In the wake of deciding whether or not to start this blog, I came across Everywhere magazine, and in it, an article detailing How We Learned to Love Los Angeles. This was the perfect cue. People need to know that L.A. is more than a defunct concrete jungle.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

I will get to getting down in L.A. soon, but first I want to share some generalizations offered from Noah Hawley - "Los Angeles has two sides: East and West. The West side runs from the Pacific Ocean to La Brea Boulevard. It includes neighborhoods such as Santa Monica, Bel Air, and Beverly Hills. The East Side stretches from La Brea to Downtown. It's made up of Hollywood, Los Feliz, and Silver Lake. The two sides couldn't be more different. The West Side skews older and smells like money. The East Side is younger and smells of unwashed jeans. People from the East Side won't date people from the West Side. (Who wants to make the drive?)" - and that, in it's entirety makes up the geographical basics of Hollywood. Be warned, you will discover that a trip to the grocery store is not an easy task. Driving time and parking will determine what you do. L.A. is a car culture, with the traffic jams and road rage to prove it.

WELCOME, FOLLOW ME

In the words of Bronwyn Jones "Los Angeles is a child star: beautiful, spoiled, percocious, naive. People love to hate L.A. The surface of the city glitters so brightly that it's sometimes hard to see the city's soul-or to discover if it has one. It's there, all right, though you won't understand it if all you have is a pocket-size book with a few celebrity names, some street addresses, and a handful of maps inside. You have to pound the pavement. Trust your instincts. Embrace the sordid and the silly, the high-brow and the lowbrow, the vast landscapes and the minute details. You'll learn that Los Angeles is a city worth finding." Indeed it is. There's a lot of scruff to sort through once you're here. Don't be naive, and don't trust too easy, it's a tough city that puts you through it's own hazing rituals. The darkness here is pretty dark, but L.A. has redeemable qualities. I'll show you where to look.

About Me

My business here is to provide a social documentary, an exercise in cohesive observation for those who view L.A. from far away and those who see the cracks up close. I love and hate L.A.; Amidst the bad, I want to offer the good, and single out people and places that make the city home. I share the opinion of Lynda Obst who said, "My perspective swells and shrinks in the daily drama. Often I lose it entirely. Writing is my tool for getting it back." Me too.